Wood

I love wood. Trees, too, and I am sorry when I see them come down.

Most of my wood comes from windfall. Living in the country and having log burners, you need to be ready to get out there and start sawing at a moment's notice, before the crowds arrive with chainsaws.

 

Yesterday's evening sun caught the logs I cut on Saturday. The picture doesn't quite catch them. They were gleaming like medals as the sun struck low across the grass.

They are beech and were affected by fungus.

The fungus gets into the grain of the wood and  the result is spalted beech, which is quite hard to get hold of. When it is worked it looks like this:

Spalted beech makes me gasp. You just want to touch the grain.

Yes, I love wood.